


Push

by TheIneffableLily



Series: Free Falling [5]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Bottom, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Shibari, Teasing, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIneffableLily/pseuds/TheIneffableLily
Summary: “No, no. It’s fine. You can keep your, uhn… I’m gonna guess letter from your secret Canadian husband.”“It’s not a secret husband.”“I see. Then… proof of the drug cartel you run on the side?”“Nicky-”“The latest chapter of your Star Wars fanfiction?”“For fuck’s sake- here!” Joe lowered his head and handed over the small stack of papers. “Just stop guessing. And please, don’t freak out, yes?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Original Character(s)
Series: Free Falling [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982570
Comments: 103
Kudos: 402





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for the feedback and I hope this chapter makes you smile :)
> 
> Not a lot of sex in the first chapter, but I promise it's coming.
> 
> OH! And HUGE thanks to Nessa for all of the biblical puns!
> 
> TW: there will be mentions of past abusive relationships, homophobia, and contentious parent-child relationships, but only in passing.

“Nicky!”

“Yeah?”

“I thought of another one!”

“Oh yes?”

“You’re gonna like it. The Holy _Train_ ity.”

That made Nicky laugh, but he still shouted back, “Not a chance!”

Joe sounded disappointed.

“But that’s my best one!”

“Still no.”

From downstairs, Joe grumbled unintelligibly. Only a couple of minutes later, as Nicky was making his way to his office, another shout reached him.

“Pontious Pilate!”

“I’m already here.”

“Oh. Pontious _Pilates_.”

“We don’t do pilates.”

Joe glanced from the computer screen, eyes locking on the stack of fluffy pancakes that Nicky had prepared for him.

“Sure you don’t want to eat upstairs? Eating in front of a screen isn’t good, you know?”

Joe ignored him. “Do you do cross fit?”

“What?”

“ _Cross_ fit. OH! _The Fit Cross!_ ”

“Joe-”

“C’mon! That’s a funny one!

“Joe, if you keep this up, I’m taking the pancakes away.”

“But on the sign,” Joe insisted, “you could have Jesus lifting a cross. A fit Jesus. With a six-pack.”

“Please, eat your breakfast and stop fetishizing Jesus.”

“I’m not fetishizing anything. I’m being helpful. You need a catchy name for your gym, and the controversy would only help with publicity. Besides-” Joe took a bite of the pancakes. Then immediately took another. Whatever he was going to add to that sentence was quickly forgotten as he chewed happily. “How can you make something so good with the crap I had in my fridge? Fuck the gym. Open a restaurant.”

Nicky perched on the counter next to Joe’s desk, watching him eat greedily. There wasn’t much space in the study, which he guessed was by design. While the atelier was spacious and bright, this little room in the back of the first floor didn’t have any windows and resembled a closet rather than an office. He doubted Joe spent much time in it. Even the desktop computer had a thin layer of dust on the monitor.

“It’s pancakes, Joe,” Nicky said, using his fork to take a few bites off of the same plate. “It’s one of the easiest things you can cook.”

“My breakfast is usually black coffee and toast. Mostly the coffee. And it’s usually cold by the time I get to drink it.”

Nicky shook his head.

“How did you make it to adulthood?”

“Sheer force of stubbornness. And lots of caffeine.”

“No wonder you’re so skinny.”

Joe laughed through mouthfuls of pancake. “Now you sound like my mom, which is disturbing.” In a slightly higher pitch and a considerably heavier accent, he said, “ _Ya lahwi_! You are too skinny, _habib_! You never eat anything! You are going to get sick!”

“That’s cute of her.”

Joe made a neutral sound. “I guess. That’s usually what we talk about, how little I eat. And how her side of the family is a bunch of loons - her words.” He smirked to himself. “She is _very_ invested in my cousin’s wedding. _To a Jewish boy, habib! What will people say?_ ”

“Don’t tell her I’m Catholic.”

“Oh, I don’t share my love life with my mom. We both agree we’re happier that way.”

Joe followed that statement by shoving half a pancake in his mouth and letting out a delighted little sound that was almost sexual. Then he dropped the subject of his mother and their complicated relationship by handing Nicky the plate and nodding at the computer.

“I know I’m being a terrible host. I’ll be done in just a minute.”

While there was part of him that wanted to pry, Nicky was glad to take a step back from any deeply personal topics. No matter how much better he was feeling that morning, Nicky couldn’t help but think he’d put Joe in an uncomfortable spot by coming to his house and unloading all of his problems on him. Canceling their plans with a vague excuse would have been wiser, then he wouldn’t be feeling nearly as exposed as he did now.

Then again, he might have given up the drastic career change had Joe not talked him off the ledge the previous night. The reassurance, while maybe crossing a line, was more than welcomed and after a good night of sleep, the doubts that had clouded the impulse decision were beginning to dissipate, making the path forward a little clearer.

 _Talking about my dad was too much, though_ , he thought. Nile and his ex-fiance were the only people who knew the extent of Nicky’s issues with the man who’d done everything in his power to keep him away from his family. Now, that list also included the guy he was fucking out of boredom and curiosity. Oh, and said guy was also giving him career advice and being more kind and understanding about his problems than he had to be because of course he was.

It was disconcerting. Nicky was getting to know Joe and the more he looked the more he was convinced that he was just a good person. The kind that would lend an ear whenever he needed and settled for a chaste arm around his shoulders instead of making a move because Nicky was feeling upset and he’d “just be happy to have your company, Nicoló, really.”

It was difficult not to like him when every word out of his mouth made Nicky feel seen and heard. The scary thought ( _I’m gonna fall for this guy if I’m not careful._ ) occurred to him after dinner, while watching something on TV to which Nicky wasn’t paying attention because all he could think about was Joe’s hand on his shoulder. Every twenty minutes or so, he’d nuzzle his hair and kiss the top of his head, then go back to paying attention to the movie like that wasn’t supposed to stir Nicky in any way.

Around the time the brave, good-looking soldier on the screen broke into the lab to rescue her companions, Nicky reached down Joe’s pants. He didn’t give him much of a warning and the only sound from him was a weak reassurance of consent and a happy sigh - otherwise, he stayed quiet as bullets and guts rained down on the protagonists. Even his orgasm was discreet, punctuated by a bite on Nicky’s earlobe and a sticky feeling on his fingers.

“Such a sweet thing,” Joe had sighed in his ear. “Want me to do the same to you?”

Nicky considered it. At least sex would throw them back into familiar territory, a place where past traumas and family feuds had no place and there were only endless pleasure and a series of enticing novelties. But the events of the day had left him emotionally exhausted and he didn’t think he could get it up even if he wanted to.

And now, after a night of some very well-behaved spooning, Nicky was making pancakes and watching him work as if he somehow had a place in Joe’s routine. And Joe was making sure to keep his own sorrows at arms’ length.

“When are you meeting Nile?” he asked, clicking things into a basket.

“In the evening. She’ll text when she gets home.” Nicky finished the pancakes and scraped the grease on the plate, focusing on the lines his fork left on the smooth surface. “So we can have all Saturday to ourselves.”

Joe smiled without looking at him. “Do we? And what will we do with this time?”

“Online shopping and answering emails, apparently.”

“Point taken. I’m almost done.”

Nicky looked over his shoulder.

“Do you need so many blue pencils?”

“Yes. I’d rather have everything in excess than have it run out halfway through a project. Nothing worse than losing momentum.”

“And you can’t do it on your phone because-”

“Because Andy hates technology and demands that I print every receipt. Our accountant hates her. Let’s see… check out… aaaand… done!”

With a click, the printer across the room came to life.

“Can you hand me that?”

“Sure. How many pages was that?”

“It’s just the one.”

“What about the other receipts?”

“What other-”

Joe turned around and, in a swift motion, he rolled to the other side of the office in his chair and snatched the papers from the tray before Nicky had the chance. Given that the office was very small and the chair was rather clunky, Nicky had to jump back not to get run over by the tiny wheels.

“Whoa! Easy there!”

“Sorry, I need these.”

“I could have handed them to you.”

“Yes, no, it’s fine.”

Nicky’s eyebrows shot up.

Joe looked up at him from the chair and spurted out a guilty, “It’s nothing.”

“Okay.”

“It’s nothing _bad_. That’s what I mean. It’s obviously _something_. But it’s nothing.”

Nicky narrowed his eyes. “Joe, are you _embarrassed_ by what’s in those papers?”

“…No?”

“Then can I see it?”

Joe had his papers to his chest as if he had to protect them from Nicky’s eyes.

“Why- no?”

Nicky bit the smile on his lips and shrugged.

“Stop smirking.”

“I’m not smirking.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, no. It’s fine. You can keep your, uhn… I’m gonna guess letter from your secret Canadian husband.”

“It’s not a secret husband.”

“I see. Then… proof of the drug cartel you run on the side?”

“Nicky-”

“The latest chapter of your Star Wars fanfiction?”

“For fuck’s sake- _here_!” Joe lowered his head and handed over the small stack of papers. “Just stop guessing. And _please_ , don’t freak out, yes?”

Nicky started saying, “Why would I-” but then he saw the centralized title in bold letters at the top of the page.

**Joe’s Kink Compatibility Essay**

The smirk vanished from Nicky’s face.

“Oh… yes… in retrospect, this makes more sense.”

——

The first item Nicky’s eyes fell on was Asphyxiation. Next to it, two boxes marked as “giving” and “receiving” were checked and the number (5) was typed beside them. Below it, a session marked as “notes” had five lines worth of explanations that varied from “willing to use hands, rope, collars, scarfs” to “not comfortable losing / making others lose conscience”.

The next item on the list was Anal Sex, followed by Abrasions - each followed by numbers and at least one paragraph of lore.

Nicky looked at the pages, then back at Joe, but since he was hiding behind his hands and not saying anything, his eyes went back to the paper.

“I’m sorry, what am I holding?”

Without looking up, Joe tapped the top of the page, calling attention to the title.

Nicky stared at it, expecting it to make sense. It didn’t.

“Yes, but… what _exactly_ am I holding?”

With a sigh, Joe’s flushed face emerged from behind his hands and he said, “The list we talked about. I was going to wait for you to hand me yours so that I knew you were more comfortable.” Joe paused. “Judging by the way you’re looking at me, I should have done that.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable,” Nicky answered, speaking a little too quickly and feeling a little too hot on his cheeks.

Joe smiled with some kindness. “You are a little.”

“I am. A little,” Nicky agreed. “I was honestly expecting bad poetry. Or the secret Canadian husband.”

“My secret husband lives in Amsterdam, just so you know. With the kids.”

“Ah.” Nicky looked at the pages again. “It also bothers me that this isn’t properly alphabetized.”

“Sure it is.”

“Anal sex should come before asphyxiation.”

Joe stared at him. “It’s still the letter A.”

“You need to look at all the letters. ‘A’ followed by ‘N’ should be before ‘A’ followed by ‘S’. And Abrasion should be the first item on-”

“ _That’s_ what you’re going to focus on?”

 _Yes_ , Nicky thought. _I’ll focus on anything that keeps me from panicking._

“Is this a… contract or something?”

“Oh nooo!” Joe sank his head on his hands again, but this time not so much embarrassed as he was distraught. “He watched _50 Shades_ and now I have to reeducate him.”

“I haven’t watched _50 Shades_! I am aware or it, though.”

“Then forget everything it’s taught you. I’m not binding you to a poorly written contract with some serious consent issues in between the lines.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Have I touched a nerve?”

“More like a pet peeve.”

“So this is just a list of things you want to do?”

“Also no. These are just things I’ve _tried_ before and whether I’m willing to try them again - or rather _how_ willing I am to try them again.”

“Right, so this is…” Nicky leafed through it. “Joe, this is seven pages long.”

“Yes.”

“It’s double-sided.”

Joe blinked at him. “ _But_ double-spaced.”

“What are these numbers?”

“Just how much I enjoy things. Five is the highest. One is a soft limit. There’s a footnote explaining what that is.”

“You’ve added _footnotes_.”

He shrugged. “I wanted to be thorough.”

“I don’t see a lot of zeros.”

“That’s on annex A?”

“Pardon me?”

Joe rolled back to the desk and opened a drawer to remove a two-page document.

“Hard limits,” he said, handing it over. “Things that are not open to negotiation.”

Nicky didn’t take it.

Then, “Annexe _A_?”

“Sorry?”

“There’s _more_ extra content?”

Joe looked sheepish. “I was going to save annex B for when you were finished, but…”

Out came more pages. Much to his chagrin, Nicky could see that this one had pictures.

Joe said, “List of BDSM equipment I have access to. Underlined items need to be requested with a two-day to one-week notice.”

Nicky skimmed it so he wouldn’t have to look at Joe for a while - but then his eyes fell on a cage-like contraption and he decided that Joe’s guilty face was easier to look at.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.”

“And you promise you won’t be offended?”

“Sure.”

“How the hell is this _seven pages long_ and you’re still not done?”

“It’s _done_. I got it printed because it’s done. I just need to color the diagrams.”

Nicky waited for the laughter. It didn’t come.

Joe looked away and chewed on his lips for a while.

“I was having a lot of fun putting this together,” he said.

“So I see.”

“It got away from me.”

“Hm-hm.”

“And I didn’t give it to you sooner because I thought a shorter version might be better.”

“I think that would have been wise, yes.”

“In my defense, I did tell you I get verbose when I’m excited.”

“You did.”

“And you bullied me into showing it to you.”

“True.”

“And-and can we go back to the moment you found out I don’t have a secret husband and was very relieved? Can we hold on to that feeling?”

“Joe, it’s fine. Really.”

Joe looked at him, skeptical.

“You don’t look fine. You look like you want to scream.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine. It’s… thorough.”

He leafed through the pages again, catching glimpses of new terms he wasn’t familiar with.

Bastinado, bondage, CBT, edging, electro play, findom- The one thing that made some sense to him was the word roleplay, and that was followed by bullet points that went from “auction” to “zookeeper”, so Nicky felt lost again.

Joe had a point. He _did_ want to scream, but not at him. Or maybe just a little at him ( _Stop freaking me out! Sometimes I feel that you’re doing it on purpose! It’s not funny!_ ). Mostly, though, he wanted to scream in frustration because he felt so thoroughly inadequate standing there, in that tiny, oppressive office, holding a list of sex acts as though they were a menu, fully aware that he’d spent most of his life being fed bread and water while people like Joe feasted unabashedly.

When scribbling his list on a piece of paper, Nicky was not at all surprised to see how short it was. Everything in it that he would classify as outside the norm had been introduced to him by Joe. Some things, he didn’t even know how to properly classify - was there a name for the “holding the neck thing” that he seemed to like so much? It wasn’t choking and the word “asphyxiation”, which was staring at him from the first page of Joe’s essay, seemed too aggressive.

Then a thought occurred to him ( _Why are you pretending this isn’t the point?_ ) and Nicky couldn’t tell if it was soothing or worrying. Still, it was the truth. He got off on the novelty, on being more daring in the last month than he’d been his entire life, and Joe got off on teaching him. If they were equal, if the scales weren’t out of sorts, then there wouldn’t be much left, no matter how many times they cuddled in front of the TV.

“Sorry, Nicky,” Joe said, sounding very insecure all of a sudden. “You haven’t said anything in about thirty seconds and I’m getting a little worried. Do you want to set that on fire? I can get a match-”

“I just thought-” Nicky said, but that didn’t go anywhere. He hadn’t thought anything. He’d hoped Joe would forget the list and move on like he had. “I was expecting items on a napkin, not… diagrams. _Colorful_ diagrams.”

“They’re currently black and white.”

“How disappointing.”

“And I left them in my atelier. And they’re just rope patterns. I could give you a hands-on demonstration later instead.” He paused to look up at Nicky’s stunned face. “Unless you want to run away screaming, which I wouldn’t fault you for.”

“I don’t want to run away screaming. I’m just overwhelmed. I don’t think I can write a matching essay.”

“Honestly, babe, I don’t think most people can,” Joe conceded, and if he considered that a proud accomplishment, at least he pretended not to. “And you don’t have to read it-”

“I want to read it.”

Joe stared at him, startled. To be fair, Nicky was surprised, too.

“I want to read it,” he repeated, the words more sure now. “I’m curious.”

 _And besides_ , he didn’t add, _if this is the final proof I shouldn’t be here, then maybe I_ have to _read it._

“But I’d rather not write anything,” Nicky told him. “I’d just feel awkward doing it.”

“That’s fine. You can just… give it a read and tell me what you think.”

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

Nicky turned around.

“Wait, I didn’t mean- not _right now_ ,” Joe said, a little alarmed.

“Why not? I have the time and you’re finishing your chores.”

 _And I’d rather get this done with_.

Joe stared at him, looking like he wanted to come up with a reason why this was a bad idea. But he couldn’t.

“Okay… yeah, might as well- I’m going to clean the kitchen, then. Or something.”

“Cool.”

“And if you have questions-”

“I’ll ask you,” Nicky said. “God knows what I’d find on Google.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to everybody who commented on chapter one and to the people on Discord who made research much easier.
> 
> I promise sex in the next chapter.

——

For the next twenty minutes, Joe hid in the kitchen, staring at the dirty frying pan and plate but refusing to clean them. At least while they soaked in the sink he’d have an excuse to stay where he was and not go upstairs - where unavoidable heartbreak lied.

Giving Nicky that list had been the wrong move. He should have come up with an excuse instead of springing what basically amounted to twenty years of sexual experience on him. Now Nicky was uncomfortable and probably wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

 _He wanted the list,_ Joe reminded himself, arms crossed and a frown on his face. _He asked me for it. Well, it was my idea, but he did say he’d rather have it written down to avoid an awkward conversation._

Was he really becoming that desensitized to sex that he saw no shame in writing his needs down? Most of his sexual partners came to him through Andy or through dating apps that were tailored to his tastes. What they were going to do in the bedroom was often decided before Joe even learned the other person’s full name, and that was fine by him. It’d been years since the last time he’d tried to make things work with a - how did Nicky put it once? - a _less adventurous_ person.

Then again, Nicky knew where he was walking into. Wasn’t that the entire nature of their relationship? For him to try something new and for Joe to entertain himself while working on his art? Worrying about what the other man might think of him after reading his long, detailed confession was pointless. Their whole dynamic was based on the sharp contrast between the two of them, except-

Except that he was starting to really care about Nicky and the thought of him disappearing from his life out of the blue hurt him deeply. And if he disappeared because he couldn’t handle who Joe was in his core, that just added salt to the wound. He’d spent the last twenty years making a point of not apologizing for whom he was; now, this vanilla priest with pretty eyes was forcing him to look at himself and wonder if others liked what they saw.

Upstairs, Nicky hadn’t made a sound and Joe expected the other man to abandon the reading at any moment and slam the front door on his way out. Something was going to get to him, Joe just knew it.

The sounding.

It was probably going to be the sounding.

More experienced partners had gaped at him, wide-eyed and mortified, demanding, “Excuse me, you want me to put this _where_?”

Joe chuckled to himself, momentarily amused by the memory -Samira had whipped him to tears several times before, but her large, brown eyes still stared at him in absolute shock as he held up a metal rod and tried to explain what to do with it. Funny, he hadn’t thought they’d get past that moment, but by the time they’d broken up, Samira wasn’t nearly as reluctant to test his limits. In fact, she turned out to be wonderfully cruel when he pushed the right buttons.

With the reassurance of that thought, Joe started scrubbing the frying pan clean. Perhaps he was overreacting.

“Joe?” Nicky’s asked from upstairs.

Joe turned off the tap and braced himself. “Yeah?”

“What’s figging?”

“There’s a footnote.”

Silence.

Then, “I don’t know what a _ganger_ is.”

“Fucking keyboards- It’s _ginger_! I misspelled!”

“Oh.”

Another pause.

“Why?”

It might have been Joe’s nerves speaking, but he’d have sworn Nicky sounded mildly disgusted.

“It stings. But I don’t like to be on the receiving end of that.” When Nicky said nothing, he added, “And clearly you’re not interested either. Duly noted.”

Nicky replied with a neutral “okay” and went back to reading. Joe could only hope the footnotes on “snowballing” and “watersports” were clear enough.

 _He_ should _leave_ , Joe thought, going back to scrubbing. _Now, before I get attached to a guy who just wants to have a good time_.

Maybe they both needed a reality check after last night. Nicky understood that. Fuck- he’d only given him a handjob the night before because the conversation had left him feeling too exposed. And Joe had done the decent thing, stopping him for only a moment to say he didn’t have to, especially if he only wanted to thank him. He was more than fine just having a quiet night in - no matter how warm and tempting his hand felt already around his cock.

Nicky had answered, “It’s not a thank you. I just can’t get enough of you.”

It wasn’t true, but it was flattering and Joe soaked in those words as Nicky began to masturbate him. It was good and gentle - necessary, even. In between sex and flirting, it was easy to forget that there was nowhere for them to go. They were too different. Even the idea of caring for someone the way he was starting to care for Nicky meant different things.

As far as Nicky was concerned, a deeper affection probably meant a conventional future, something he’d pictured for a very long time. An eventual husband. Children. The picture-perfect family everyone was fed through merciless exposure in the media as well as on the streets.

Joe tended to see his romantic future as more flexible. He could see himself growing old with someone, a person he would share a house with and support through the good and the bad times. They might be monogamous if they were both so inclined, the thought didn’t bother him. He was inventive enough to keep the relationship exciting long past the point of novelty. And if that stopped being enough, they could always reevaluate where they stood.

It was _almost_ the same thing except when it wasn’t. Their futures seemed to brush on each other, coming dangerously close to collision, but they never met where they were supposed to. And that, in Joe’s opinion, was the problem.

Once again, his mind wandered to Samira - sweet and quiet Samira, who had a lot of anger issues she worked through by riding his face until he was breathless and flogging his back until he sobbed. What was it- seventeen months? It was probably the longest he’d gone with a single partner since Guillaume. He’d go as far as to say he’d loved her for a while. Probably the most amicable breakup he’d ever had, too.

Sweet, wicked Samira.

She was married now. She made a point of bringing her wife to one of Joe’s expositions and introduce them.

“This is Joe. He really helped me come out of my shell.”

Cute little thing, that girl, ten years her junior and so thin she almost disappeared in Samira’s thick, protective arms. And she looked at Joe’s ex like she was her entire world. He’d never met a couple that looked happier. It was heartwarming.

Maybe he’d meet Nicky’s husband one day.

——

After another ten minutes had passed without a word, Joe gave up hiding and marched upstairs like he was heading to his execution. Nicky didn’t look up. He was sitting in the farthest corner of the couch, knees up to his chest, eyes focused on the pages.

Joe took the other corner.

“I got you some water.”

Nicky extended a hand without looking at him. After he took a sip and put the glass down, Joe asked, “Good reading?”

“You’re a good writer,” he said, eyes still on the page. There was definitely some red on his face as he spoke, but at least he didn’t sound overwhelmed anymore.

Joe shrugged. “It’s basically an instructions manual.”

“A very well-written instructions manual. Spelling issues notwithstanding.”

Oh, that little smirk on the corner of his mouth. Prick. Joe wanted to kiss him.

“Shut up. Typing is hard.” He peered over Nicky’s shoulder. “Which one are you reading?”

“The equipment one. Where the _hell_ are you keeping the horse wagon?”

“Under the bed.”

Nicky looked at him.

Joe laughed.

“I don’t have a horse wagon. I know where to get one, though. If you’re into-”

“No. Pulling that would probably ruin my back.”

If he was already eliminating things based on physical injuries rather than absolute repulsion, that was probably a good sign.

Nicky flipped to the last page, scanned through the pictures, then flipped back to the first one. Joe was about to say something when he rearranged the papers so that the essay was on top again.

“I have questions,” he announced.

“Yeah, sure.”

“How is CBT a kink?”

Joe stared at him.

“Do you know what that stands for?” he asked.

“Cognitive behavior therapy? I used to teach it to survivors of abuse.”

“Cock and ball torture.”

Nicky went quiet.

“Oh. I see.” He eyed the pages again, then looked at Joe. Now he was definitely blushing. “I didn’t teach _that_ to children.”

“I sure hope you didn’t. I’ve petitions therapists to stop using it, but they asked me to stop writing.” When Nicky said nothing and just stared back at him, he added, “I’m joking.”

“No, I got that. I just- do people like that? The, uhn-” He scanned the page for the right term. His eyebrows shot up. “Pinching, whipping, slapping, biting-”

“Some people do. I mean, _you_ like it when-”

“No, I know. I know.”

Nicky went back to reading for a second. After a beat, he said, “No. That wasn’t really my question. You wrote next to it: _I hate it. Good for punishment._ ”

“I did.”

“But it’s not a hard limit.”

“No.”

“And… there’s a lot of this throughout your…”

“Manuscript?”

“Manuscript. Sure. That’s what I don’t get. Why would I do something that you hate?”

Joe didn’t have to think about it before answering. He’d had this exact conversation several times before. Usually with Booker, who never passed the chance to tease him about it.

“I don’t _really_ hate it. It’s a good kind of hate. The physical sensation is unpleasant, but the unpleasantness is the point. Does that make sense?”

Nicky’s pretty eyes were watching him. He said, “It _almost_ does.”

Joe tried to put his thoughts in order.

“I don’t _like_ to have my privates whipped or pinched,” he said, very slowly. “It’s very unpleasant. But if _you_ were to do that to me, then it’d be a game. I’d enjoy the dread and anticipation. I’d enjoy being at your mercy more than I’d hate being hurt. It’s… I guess it’s about finding the right balance.”

Nicky seemed to think about it.

“I’ll look into it,” he said, going back to reading. “I like the part where you’re at my mercy.”

Joe felt his belly flutter pleasantly.

Nicky continued to scan, finger looking for specific points as it slid down the page. To his surprise, he moved on to the next list.

Joe asked, “If you have any more questions-”

“You sort of answered most of them with the ‘it’s about balance’ thing.”

“Oh. Okay. And there’s nothing that you find… I don’t know, disgusting? Or… troubling?”

Nicky opened his mouth several times without saying a word.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Maybe some things. I’m thinking about it.”

“Huh.”

“Huh what?”

“I thought you’d just draw a big, red X on every page and start this conversation with ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’”

Nicky shrugged. “Honestly, by the time I got to Sounding, most of my objections were about physical safety.”

“Ah.” Before Nicky could speak, Joe added, “That’s not something I do regularly.”

“Yeah, you wrote that.”

“And I’m very safe.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t expect you to do it either. Not if it’s not your thing.”

“ _I know_. Can I ask another question now?”

“Sure.”

“The first item,” Nicky said, pointing at the somewhat short list of hard limits. “ _Verbal degradation that involves homophobic or racial slurs_.”

“Yes?”

“I thought that would go without saying.”

“It doesn’t. I’ve lost count how many men pulled that shit right in the middle of sex and thought I’d be fine with it.”

Nicky made a disgusted sound. “That’d kill the mood for me.”

“Yeah, there’s no coming back from that one. Some people get off on that sort of thing, though. I just don’t.”

Nicky flipped the page over, then moved on to the second without saying a word.

“This one is a short list.”

That didn’t sound particularly judgmental, so Joe shrugged. “I guess I like to experiment.”

Nicky quieted down and rested the pages on his chest, eyes gazing into Joe’s.

“What?”

“I don’t think I understand you.”

Joe frowned at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s like you’re going through life without fear,” Nicky said. “If a guy asked to fart in my mouth, I wouldn’t answer with, ‘depends what you had for lunch’.”

“Oh fuck!” Joe sank his head in his hands. “I forgot that was in there.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” he said, though there was definitely a quirk on his lips that indicated he found the whole thing _very_ funny.

“You can judge that one. _I_ judge that one.”

Nicky laughed but, thankfully, moved on from the subject before Joe died of embarrassment.

“My point is,” he said, fighting a bout of giggles, “you’re not afraid of what other people might think. I wish I was more like that.”

“I think you’re braver than you think. You let me tie you up.”

“That’s not what I mean. I _let you_ tie me up, but I wouldn’t have brought it up with a complete stranger. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Yes, but you trusted me immediately.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow at him. “I trusted my ability to beat you up with my arms tied above my head, you mean.”

“Ha! You keep saying that, but I see no proof of it.” Joe scooted closer and passed an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk.”

Nicky didn’t fight the touch nor did he try to correct him. He simply gave him a little smile and a kiss on the lips before looking back at the manuscript.

Joe rested his chin on his shoulder.

“I do care about what other people think, you know,” he said. “Just not everyone. It’s too exhausting to keep up with everybody’s expectations.”

“Don’t I know it,” Nicky said, his words so bitter that Joe caught himself wondering who had made him feel so uncomfortable.

His first thought was the ex-boyfriend, but that wasn’t entirely fair. He’d recently developed the habit of thinking ill of the man because of the way he’d spoken to him at Nicky’s place. And perhaps it was also jealousy, though he wasn’t about to open that can of worms just yet.

No, that deep feeling of shame ran much closer to his heart than a boyfriend could touch. Joe understood that all too well.

“When I was ten, we moved from Tunis to Berlin,” Joe said, close to Nicky’s ear. “ _Baba_ got a new job, so we packed up our lives and moved. And this might surprise you, but I didn’t exactly blend in with the German _kinder_.”

Nicky smiled at him. “What? No!”

“I know. Shocking!”

Joe held the hem of Nicky’s shirt in his fingers and fiddled with it for a while.

“You know how kids can be,” he said, not really looking at him. “New boy in school who barely understood a word of German. Funny accent. Funny hair. Funny family.” His shoulders rose and then fell heavily. “It’s a strange thing, being new to another country, especially when your parents don’t feel safe interacting with people outside of their community. It’s even stranger being a child caught in between - not quite a part of this new place, but not quite adhering to the family expectations either.

“Then I got older and it wasn’t just the way I looked, but the people I had sex with - which was just more fodder for the conservative parents to say I was leaving their values behind.”

Nicky took hold of his hand and squeezed. Joe slid his fingertips up and down his knuckles, concentrating on the feeling of his skin as he spoke.

“Then came the bad boyfriend who…” he gave another shrug, not particularly interested in looking too closely at that memory. “I don’t know, you start seeing how full of shit everyone is, even the ones who only want what’s best for you. Someone will always think less of you because of the way they perceive the world. I just got tired of being ashamed, I guess.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

Joe looked at him. “What, no. You didn’t.”

“I did,” Nicky insisted. “On more than one occasion. And Mark did, too.”

“What Mark thinks doesn’t matter.”

“You were still upset, though.”

Joe didn’t say anything for a moment, debating just how honest he should be.

“It wasn’t Mark that upset me,” he said, “it was the fact that he did it in front of you. I care what _you_ think.”

“What I think,” Nicky said, without missing a beat, “is that you’re one of the nicest people I know.”

He meant it, too. Joe could see it in his eyes. His pretty, adoring eyes into which Joe felt himself falling. He had to pull back. He had to resist their calling until it was safe to speak again, but he couldn’t look away.

“Before I met you,” Nicky was saying, words washing over him so kind and sweet it was hard not to drown in them, “I’d have been one of the assholes glaring at you from the sidelines. That’s just so stupid. Like I’m any better just because I’m too scared to ask for what I want.”

Joe picked up on the frustration in his voice and said softly, “It’s not a competition, Nicolò.”

“Yeah, I know. I just-”

Nicky took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. Joe waited, keeping him in his arms.

“I thought I’d hate this,” he said, gesturing at the manuscript. “I thought this was going to be the thing that’d send me running, but I don’t hate it. It’s good. It’s… enticing. Even the bits that… frankly, freaked me out a bit. Even those bits I couldn’t stop reading.”

He paused, but Joe didn’t fill the silence with idle chatter or comforting words and let him sit with his thoughts for a bit.

Unexpectedly, Nicky let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“What a pair we are. You’re worried I’ll think poorly of you because you have too much sex, and I’m worried you’ll think poorly of me because I have too little.”

“Hm,” Joe grumbled back. “That is funny.”

“The fart thing gave me pause, though.”

Joe cringed, but the humor in Nicky’s voice was more than welcomed.

“Let’s never mention that again, yes?” he replied, much in the same tone.

“Sure, Joe. Whatever you want.”

But the silence that followed was charged with mischief and it didn’t surprise Joe one bit when Nicky said, “I just want to know-”

“Please, don’t-”

“Did he do that by accident or-”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“I know it’s a hard limit, but did you guys agree on it beforehand or-”

“Nicky-”

“Wait! Was he also the guy who liked diapers?”

“That’s it! Give me my essay back!”

Nicky jumped up from the couch to evade Joe’s grasping hands, the manuscript just out of his reach, tempting him to come and get them. He was laughing as Joe got up to chase him and, after jumping over the coffee table, he managed to pull at his shirt. The tussle that ensued was short-lived and Joe knew from the start he’d end on the floor with Nicky on top of him, but he thought he’d put up a good fight, judging by the ten-or-so pages scattered on the floor. Nevermind that the other man had his wrists pinned over his head.

“I let you win,” Joe said.

“Sure you did.” Nicky leaned in and gave him a kiss, but he didn’t let go of his wrists just yet. “So tell me, what’s the thing you want to do to me the most?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to the people on Discord who helped me find rope sources! The sex is finally here and I hope you enjoy it!

At first glance, there was a practicality to the leather bindings that the rope seemed to lack. Instead of hooks that snapped into place whose only purpose was to keep him from going anywhere, the diagrams Joe had drawn by hand showed geometric patterns and pretty knots that appeared to be more for show than restriction. It definitely had a certain showmanship to it, a desire to be seen and appreciated that tickled Nicky’s interest.

“You really put some effort into this,” he said, truly impressed with the details on the sketches, which showed a faceless male form bound in several positions. Nicky had the impression they should have looked vulgar, especially the ones that displayed the subject on his knees, but there was a beauty to Joe’s pencil lines that softened the crassness out of the pictures.

“I’ve been using them to warm up before work,” Joe said, shoulder to shoulder with him on the couch, the manuscript Nicky had devoured only a few minutes earlier now on the coffee table. “Which ones do you like? You can pick anything.”

Compared to the rest of the essay Joe had written, being roped up in pretty knots seemed tame. Intriguing, yes, just like everything else on those seven pages, but mild.

Making a choice when confronted with such intricate patterns proved difficult, so Nicky only skimmed through the pictures and handed them back to Joe, saying, “Surprise me.” Trusting the other man’s judgment hadn’t disappointed him yet. Joe’s eyes seemed to twinkle at the possibilities.

“Do you have any injuries I don’t know about yet?” he asked. “Poor circulation?”

“No.”

“Any issues holding the same position for a long time?”

“Martial artist.”

“Yes, you keep reminding me.”

“Well, you keep forgetting.”

“True.” Joe leaned closer to his ear, the hand that had been resting on his lower back snaking around Nicky’s waist. “Go wait in the bedroom.” When Nicky tried to get off the couch, Joe’s other hand held on to his wrist, thumb and forefinger locked around him in a firm grip that made him stop and look back. “Do some stretching while you wait.”

“Okay.”

“Naked.”

Nicky covered his embarrassment by avoiding Joe’s eyes and muttering, “You have strange fetishes, you know that?”

At least the exercise was familiar territory. It wasn’t even the first time he worked out in his underwear either. He bent over to touch the palms of his hands to the floor, his back turned to the door just in case Joe came back unannounced - but after holding the position for a little too long, Nicky realized he was probably giving him time to prepare, so he moved on to the rest of the sequence he used before a more strenuous workout.

When Joe reappeared a few minutes later, Nicky was on his back, pulling his right knee to his chest.

“I told you to be naked,” Joe reminded him, putting the rope on the bed before Nicky could take a proper look, then pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“I am.”

Joe came closer, looking down at him. He nudged the side of his hip with a socked foot, poking at his underwear.

“And what is this?”

“Trust a professional, Joe,” Nicky said. “You don’t want your balls dangling while you do a split.”

Joe humphed in return, but Nicky could see he was biting the inside of his cheek not to laugh.

Nicky pulled both of his legs by the back of his knees. Though he didn’t need any help, he still asked, “Do you mind?” and let Joe kneel between his legs and push him gently by his feet.

“Like this?”

Nicky exhaled, feeling the burn on the back of his thighs. “Perfect.”

“You’re flexible. That’s good.”

Joe released the pressure and Nicky sat up, moving his neck from one side to the other. His entire body felt very relaxed. When he tried to take his underwear off, Joe said, “No. Keep them on for now.”

He extended a hand to help him off the ground and Nicky finally saw the four bundles of midnight-blue rope he’d left on the bed. He extended a hand to touch it and considered how it made him feel.

“Is this hemp?”

“It is. I have cotton, too, if you’d prefer it, but hemp is better for knots.”

Nicky remembered the rough feeling of hemp rope on his hands as he built shelters in refugee camps. The fibers made him itch and left burns on his skin from pulling too hard. This was softer, though. The friction was there, but the fabric was smoother than he expected. He wrapped it around his hands and pulled. This felt softer on his skin.

“That’s a lot of rope,” he said. “Are you hanging me from the ceiling or something?”

Joe smiled. “That’s not beginner-friendly.”

“There are levels?”

“Yes.”

“How many are we-”

Joe made a shushing sound and held him tightly from behind.

“I love your questions, but do something for me, Nicolò?”

“Yes?”

Joe’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Be very quiet.”

Nicky blinked at the bed a few times, then said, “Okay.”

“You have to tell me if you’re hurt or if you’re going numb on your hands or feet. And you can use your safeword if it’s uncomfortable and answer when you’re talked to.”

Joe’s soft voice carried on, luring him in the way a lullaby might lure a child to sleep. Nicky relaxed his weight against Joe’s chest. The solid form behind him kept him anchored and he tried to even his breathing.

“Okay. I think- I can do that.”

“Other than that, no speaking.”

The word “yes” came all the way up to his throat but died on his tongue. Instead, Nicky nodded. He could feel the shape of Joe’s grin against the back of his neck.

“What a good slut you are. You’re learning.”

That ugly word alone set his heart racing and he knew Joe could feel it from where he stood. Not that he didn’t understand the effect he had on Nicky. Nicky might be a quick study, but he knew he was nothing compared to Joe. In just a few weeks, he’d learn how to hold him so that he didn’t struggle, how to drop his voice to a quiet tone to draw him in, how to say that word _just right_ to make Nicky feel safe in it.

That ugly word always made him melt.

Joe untangled the rope from his hands with quick, skilled fingers that held the restraints as delicately as he did his pencils.

“Sit down. I’ll do a simple chest harness to start.”

“Okay.”

He wondered if that counted as a question or if he was speaking out of turn, but Joe said nothing so that probably meant it was alright. Nicky doubted he was anxiously waiting for a slip to punish him - that wasn’t the kind of game they played in the bedroom, though the possibility had crossed Nicky’s mind while reading Joe’s long list.

 _Good for punishment_ , he’d written next to several items. Perhaps, there was something to it.

Joe folded the full length of the rope in half and used the loop to secure it just beneath his chest. Nicky looked down at the two blue lines enveloping him. It wasn’t harsh on his skin, but it was definitely tight, especially as he breathed in. Snap hooks were easy to get out of, but he understood why there was a pair of scissors at hand on the nightstand. If, God forbid, that thing got tangled around his neck, he’d need a quick way out.

Joe ran the ends of the rope over his shoulder, tucked them to the front, then passed it over the other.

He paused. When he spoke, his voice was suddenly tense.

“I’m making a pentagram.”

Nicky’s eyes doubled in size as he turned to look at him in absolute disgust.

“You’re using a _satanic_ knot?”

Joe was horrified. “I’m - _so_ \- sorry! I completely forgot-”

Nicky burst out laughing.

The worry vanished from Joe’s face, quickly replaced with annoyance.

“You’re a dick.”

“And you’re too cute.”

Nicky leaned in for a kiss, but Joe put two fingers to his lips and pushed him away.

“Kisses are for sluts who don’t fuck around.”

“That’s mean,” Nicky said, though Joe spoke with a little smile that took the sting out of his tone. He wondered if he even had the ability to be mean.

Joe shook his head and resumed work. In five minutes, Nicky had a star on his chest and the ends of the rope were tied to his back.

“Too tight?”

Nicky examined how he felt. It was constricting, but not in an unpleasant way. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the rope rubbing on his skin. He took a deep breath and felt it push back, warning him to stay in place.

“It feels nice. Maybe someday you can teach me.”

“I’d love that.” Joe held his hand and brought it to his lips to give it a kiss. “You’re gonna have to practice, though. You have to be really careful with it. You can cause real damage if you don’t know what you’re doing. And you _never_ do this by yourself, yes?”

“Okay.”

“Give me your other hand.”

Nicky looked at him.

“Oh, I’m far from done. Go on.”

The next bundle was thinner, shorter. It looped around his wrists only a few times before Joe tied the middle of it, forming the prettiest handcuffs Nicky had ever seen. Without a word, he guided him to his back and tied him to the bedpost, hands above his head and feet kicking at the pillows across the bed. He finished it off with what Nicky assumed was a pretty bow. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the loops near his hands. It was just within reach, either by default to make him feel safer, or because Joe felt a little overconfident.

Joe slid his hands down his stomach, smoothing the skin appreciatively. Without saying anything else, he started working on his legs by making cuffs around his ankles and pushing his calves against his thighs.

There was something different about the rope. Both the leather and the belt Joe had used before had set his heart racing. But Joe worked the rope around him with such dedication and patience that it was easier to relax as he watched the soft, midnight blue hug him tighter and tighter until he couldn’t move his legs anymore. What started as bundles of rope ended in beautiful, detailed work of lines and knots in the center of which he lied - arms up, legs bound, a pretty star on his chest. Maybe it was silly, but Nicky assumed that was how a work of art might feel under Joe’s pencil.

“Can I ask a question?” he tried, timidly.

Joe smirked from between Nicky’s knees. “You’re not very good with instructions, babe.”

“Just one question.”

“One.”

“Why was this the thing you wanted to try? You’ve tied me up before.”

Joe didn’t need to think about the answer.

“It’s not the same. This isn’t about holding you down.” His index finger traced the knots he’d left on the inside of his leg, between his calf and thigh. “Most times I do this, it’s not even about the sex. I’d be just as happy to tie you up and put your head on my lap while I drew. That would be enough for me.”

“Like a pet.”

The thought seemed to please him, but Joe still said, “I like that. But no. Not quite. It’s about the aesthetic as much as about the restraint. Beautiful things should be admired and I find you extremely beautiful.”

He spoke so sincerely it was impossible not to believe him. Joe stalked closer on his hands and knees and all Nicky could do was part his legs further to allow him on top of him. From that position, he could see his handsome face, the hairs on his face, the way his bones moved underneath his broad, strong shoulders.

“Such a beautiful, obedient slut,” he rasped just inches from his mouth. “I want to draw you, but I don’t think I can do you justice.”

Nicky wanted to say something. Anything. A snarky remark that would keep Joe on his toes and hide the red on his cheeks. But nothing came to mind. When Joe started sucking on his nipples, Nicky gave up any chance of ever having another cohesive thought, let alone a clever one.

“Remember how much it hurt last time?” Joe asked, getting only a nod in response. “Now he’s quiet.”

Nicky wriggled like he wanted to kick (just a little, just to tease), but that proved to be pointless.

“Do you want it to hurt the same or less?”

Nicky sat with the question for a couple of breaths, then said, “More.”

“Sure? I’d hate to hurt you.”

“Yes. Please.”

The nipple clamps that Joe took from his closet resembled more a little pair of pliers than clothespins, but they closed on him more gently than the plastic clips had. Nicky was about to whine that he could take more when Joe turned the little screws at its sides just a little, causing the rubber tips to bite tighter.

“Enough?” Joe asked.

“More,” Nicky said, his voice strained.

“Don’t push too much, babe. Let it be for a moment.”

The pain did quiet, but it didn’t fade or grow numb as Nicky was expecting. Instead, it dulled to a throb that made every breath an excruciating reminder of the clamps on his skin.

Joe repeated, “Enough?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Good slut.”

He pulled at the chain and Nicky lifted his chest from the bed, but Joe kept a stilling hand on his sternum.

“Shhh… easy now… don’t move… just feel it for a while… doesn’t that feel good, my beautiful slut? I know that’s your favorite thing…”

Nicky squirmed, his underwear suddenly feeling more constricting than the rope.

“Take these off.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“You were so keen to keep them before. I think we’re gonna wait a little longer.”

Nicky didn’t think it’d be a _little_ longer. Joe was going to torment him with it as much as he could. That wonderful bastard.

Joe bent closer and kissed him just below the belly button.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece.”

He kissed the outline of his erection through the fabric.

“How do you feel?”

 _Exposed_ , he thought, but not like the previous night. Then, he’d felt too vulnerable, too bare. He was nothing but a pile of nerves on display. This felt open and safe, an amount of giving he could do without thinking too much, a piece of himself he was willing to part with.

“Nicky?”

“Good,” he said. Not nearly as eloquent, but enough to make him go on. He wriggled just enough to brush the tip of his toe against Joe’s arm. Joe took that as an invitation to lie on top of him again and kiss him deeply.

“You have the most striking eyes.” He ran a finger down his profile. “Your nose, your brow… Like a roman statue, that face.”

Nicky shook his head. “Sap.”

“No, none of that. You deserve a compliment. Say thank you.”

It was strange to struggle with something as gentle as a kind word, but all Nicky could muster was a timid “thank you”. It was enough to earn him a kiss on the lips and a smile.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Joe kissed down his neck, his chest, his belly. He left no bruises and every touch was too soft, too little, too fleeting. Nothing lingered, except for the ropes. The only constant touch on his skin was the one thing keeping him from getting the thing he wanted the most and the contrast was absolutely maddening.

The pretty bow Joe had left on the other side of the bedpost was still just within reach and Nicky’s fingers fiddled with it. It was tempting. So very tempting…

“You never look at me,” Joe said from between his legs.

Nicky lifted his head just a bit but let it thud back on the mattress.

“Well, from this angle it’s a little hard.”

“I mean when we have sex. You’re always facing the other way. Or I am.”

Nicky frowned at the ceiling. “At my place. I was facing you.”

“The lights were out. That doesn’t count.”

Joe nibbled on the inside of his thigh, but even that was the barest scrape of teeth that left only a tickle behind.

“I’d like to look into your pretty eyes tonight.”

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

Joe tugged at his underwear and Nicky was only allowed a second of relief until he realized he was just pulling them off enough to expose his cheeks and what lied between them. His cock - unbearably hard and aching - was left trapped in the fabric.

When Joe’s tongue made its way to his entrance, Nicky jolted.

“Oh fuck!”

Joe stopped.

“Is that fine?”

“Fine… more than fine…”

“Then be very still.”

Joe teased his entrance with his finger, touching the wet trail his tongue had left behind without pushing in. He held on to the rope on his thighs and pulled back until Nicky’s feet were turned to the ceiling, then buried his face between his cheeks.

Nicky cursed in a low voice and screwed his eyes shut. He didn’t need both hands to count the times Mark had done that to him, though he the rarity always made it more interesting when he did. It was the gentlest tease, something that gave him goosebumps and felt just a little dirty before Mark flipped him on his back and made love to him. He’d have probably done it more often if Nicky had asked, but he didn’t. Parsimony made it special, and craving it so much was like a shameful little secret that Nicky held close to his chest, causing him to blush at the thought of it.

If Joe knew what “parsimony” meant, he instantly forgot it the moment he got between his legs. He devoured him unabashedly, tongue lapping at him as if Nicky had been keeping himself away, starving him on purpose. Now, he couldn’t get enough of his favorite thing.

Trying to roll his hips and grind against the scrape of his beard was pointless. Joe’s hands were pulling at the rope so tightly there was very little he could do but lie back and take what he gave.

When the tip of his tongue pushed inside of him, Nicky let out a pathetic little high-pitched vowel that only made him look even more helpless.

“Just fuck me already!”

Joe only pulled back enough to say, “Who says I want to?” Once that was out of the way, he went back to lapping at his hole.

Nicky grasped the bedpost, eyes rolling back.

“Come on… _fuck!_ You’re gonna drive me mad!”

Joe was grinning. Nicky could feel it on his skin. And his finger was stroking again without ever going in and giving him what he so desperately needed.

“I don’t know. I could just leave you where you are and come in to appreciate your beauty now and again.”

He touched his erection with his fingertips.

“Or I might keep teasing you for a while. Or-” he turned the screw on his right nipple just a little but it was enough to make Nicky keen and clutch the bedpost harder. That knot was just within reach, just close enough to untie and teach Joe a lesson. Joe went on with a gleefulness that was almost cruel. “I don’t know… I have so many toys I want to try on you.”

“Please, Joe.”

Once again, Joe moved to lie on top of him. Through his sweatpants, Nicky could feel his erection right next to his own. He left a kiss on the corner of his mouth and said, “Ask nicely.”

“Please.”

“No, babe. Ask _nicely_.”

Nicky looked at him, a knot in his throat that wouldn’t let the word out.

“Be a good slut, Nicky. Ask me properly.”

He wanted to. He really wanted to, but-

“I feel silly.”

“That’s fine,” Joe said, so very sweet it was easy to forget he’d been teasing Nicky for the better part of an hour. “I feel silly, too. We’ll feel silly together.”

Nicky took a deep breath. He tried to keep his eyes on Joe’s as he said, “Please fuck me, sir.”

The most adoring smile spread on Joe’s face.

“Such a good slut. How could I say no to you?”

He reached down and freed his cock, immediately pushing it in. Nicky kept his eyes on him, not even daring to blink.

“Faster.”

“No.”

“Please, sir.”

“No. And stop begging, slut. I’m taking my time. I love your pretty eyes.”

Joe rocked gently in and out of him, warm breath on Nicky’s face and fingers tucked between his thighs and the rope to stop him from squirming. And he couldn’t look away.

“You’re so good, my little slut. I adore you. Every inch of you.”

He angled his hips just right to rub against the sweet spot, making Nicky see stars with every thrust.

“That’s it,” Joe whispered against his wide-open mouth, not at all moved by the desperate sounds coming from him. “That’s it… doesn’t that feel good?”

It was good.

It was impossibly good.

The movement of his hips, the bite of the clamps, the words in his ear… Nicky was being pulled in a hundred different directions, coming undone from ever angle, shattering into a million pieces and kept together only by the force of Joe’s steadying eyes and the blessed restriction of the ropes around him.

“I wonder how long I can keep you like this… how long can you wait?”

It was also not enough.

Nicky positioned his tied knees just above Joe’s hipbones. The knot on the bedpost came apart with a single tug.

——

Joe saw his hands coming, but he was too far gone to understand the implications of what was happening until he was on his back, his cock entirely - _finally!_ \- sheathed inside of Nicky. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Joe’s startled eyes.

“What the-” Joe said, looking rather baffled at how that had turned out, but Nicky pushed his roped hands on his chest and kept him down before he could even try to regain the upper hand.

In a breathless voice, he said, “You tease too much. Sir.”

And he began to ride him in earnest.

There was a part of him - hurt pride, probably - that wanted to push back and regain control of the situation. He’d planned that moment in his head several times before and having the tables turn on him wasn’t how he’d envisioned it ending.

But a much larger part of him saw the spark in Nicky’s eyes, s star on his chest and rope straining on his thighs and all he could do was let the realization come.

_I fucking love this man._

It sounded tongue and cheek in his head, but he knew he meant it. It was real. It wasn’t about to fade once they were done. Joe’s hands went up Nicky’s arms, open palms stroking him, marveling at the fact that he was there, on top of him.

Nicky huffed through a smile.

“What, giving up already?”

 _I fucking love him_.

Joe threw him a feral smile and hook the chain around his finger. Nicky didn’t realize what he was doing until he yanked at it, cause a jolt of pain. The sound out of his mouth was of absolute pleasure and he threw his head back.

“ _Fuck_ , that is _so_ good!”

Joe managed to sit up on bed, still keeping a firm hold on that chain while his other hand held on to the rope on his back. He growled, “Disobedient little slut,” in the most primal, dangerous tone and he could have sworn that Nicky shivered from his head to his toes as he smiled widely at the ceiling. Joe kissed his throat, lips wide open. “I’ll have to tame you… I’ll have to teach you better…”

But he wasn’t trying to get off of him. He was yanking the chain, pulling him close, and fucking him greedily, saying the most barbaric things in his ear. Nicky trapped him closer, bound wrists on the back of Joe’s neck.

Nicky came when Joe gave a final pull at the chain that draw a wail from his mouth and popped the clamps free from his nipples. He didn’t stop moving, though, and long after Joe had finished - leaving a proper bruise on his shoulder for good measure - he was still twitching mindlessly on his lap.

Joe couldn’t find the energy to say anything, not even shush him, but he wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on Nicky’s chest, chain still dangling from his hand.

Nicky laughed. “I like the rope. We’re doing it again.”

Joe didn’t make a sound.

“Joe?”

He didn’t look up but mumbled back, “Next time I’ll tie you to the bed and then you’ll be in trouble.”

It was a halfhearted threat that only made Nicky laugh again. “Try that. Let’s see who ends up on top.”

Joe didn’t care. It didn’t matter. As long as he could be on that bed with Nicky, he’d be in any position the other man saw fit.

“You okay?”

Joe mustered a nod.

Nicky asked, “Did I ruin it?”

“No. I like it when you push my buttons.”

He kissed his clavicle to show he wasn’t mad and started picking on the knots on his leg.

“You’re gonna have rope burns from that, you know?” he said, head turned on his shoulder, facing away from him. “Not the best knots for rolling around in.”

“You sure I didn’t cross a line?”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m new at this. If I did something-”

“No.” The knots dissolved into rope and Joe took a moment to stroke his backside and kiss his chest, soothing him. “No. I like it when you push back. I do. I liked it. I-”

_I love you._

He looked up. “I like you.”

Nicky kissed him, clearly relieved to hear it. “After that, you’d fucking better.”

“No,” Joe said. “I _really_ like you.”

Nicky stared at him at a loss for words.

Right. No coming back from that now.

“What I mean is… I think we should rethink this ‘just for sex’ thing.”


End file.
